Be Brave, Beatrice. I Love You.

I Have Never Been Carried Around By A Large Boy, Or Laughed Until My Stomach Hurt At The Dinner Table, Or Listened To The Clamor Of A Hundred People All Talking At Once. Peace Is Restrained; This Is Free.

Suicide To Them Is An Act Of Selfishness. Someone Who Is Truly Selfless Does Not Think Of Himself Often Enough To Desire Death.

This Concept Could Easily Have Gone Awry. Stories About Love Tend To Go That Way Sometimes. They Wander Into The Realm Of Cheese And Never Return, Which I Think Is A Shame, Because There Is A Way To Write About Romantic Love Without Breaking Out The Velveeta.

I Try To Leave Some Space In My Mind For Things To Surprise Me Or Change My Mind, I Think That's Important.

Why Do You Say Vague Things If You Don't Want To Be Asked About Them?